In the end all you want is a pen that writes well and a life that you've lived well…

Old Man or Eyes and Lies

I caught him looking at me when I opened my eyes, grandpa. I had been aware, that he was looking at me. As soon as I opened my eyes he looked away, like everyone does. I looked at him, when he wasn’t looking. I know that he knew, that I was looking at him too. He let me… perhaps he was too shy and too proud to speak. Old people are so far away sometimes… sometimes, you don’t feel like they are real people. Like it is with kids. They don’t feel real. It’s like they are yet to become people. And with old people, it’s like, they are done with being people and do not care enough anymore, about being people. I like them better than I like kids.

But I want to be a kid more than I want to be an old man. Sometimes it feels like I spent most of my early youth wanting to be an old man. Proud of my already graying hair and slowing movements, I would look at other young people and smile or frown, but never talk. Like grandpa who was looking at me when I wasn’t looking at him.

Now, I am fairly sure that I’d rather be a bundle of festivities than a grumpy old geezer, with all due respect. I’d rather, that time ran so fast for me that I keep disappearing, than time running so slow that I cease to exist…

I don’t know. Sometimes, when you become too aware of all the eyes upon you (not particularly old ones, that can’t even really see that well… but eyes in general, with all kinds of people attached to them), you tend to forget a lot. You tend to forget that those eyes are not even really looking most of the time. The few times, when they are indeed looking, what happens in their heads has nothing to do with what they are seeing. In a few rare cases, when a pair of eyes actually sees, it doesn’t matter, all that much… but one forgets… I forget… proudly forgetful, like grandpa…

I was wondering what you’d have to say about this dear angel in the dust…
…a lot happens, I must agree… most days I am a strong believer in the eye business… some days one does not want to believe in anything…

Every place in every moment is potent with a zillion stories, pictures, poems, music of life and death. I am trying to find my way across the unfathomable ocean of experience and sometimes, I dive into the depths for sunken treasures and dark mysteries. I write. I take pictures. I make music.